Rise of the Phoenix
by C-Sorai
Summary: It's been two years since Brady left Kinkow. When Brady's voice wakes Boomer in the middle of the night the brothers are thrust into a new adventure. (Features all three brothers).
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

"Boomer. Boomer, wake up."

The phrase was accompanied by a shake to the shoulder and Boomer rolled over, grunting in protest at the intrusion.

"Boomer!" The familiar voice was louder this time, more insistent. Boomer grudgingly opened his eyes and squinted at the clock next to his bed. Two AM. He groaned and glanced to where his brother, Boz, slept in the next bed. Why hadn't he woken up? Boz was a light sleeper and always woke first.

"Boomer, move!"

Boomer flinched at the volume and sat up, heart pounding.

"Finally," the voice said, sounding relieved. "Wake Boz and get out of there."

It took him a minute to recognize the voice. "Brady? When did you get back?" A surge of anger filled his vision. "You disappear with no warning and pop back in two years later to wake me up in the middle of the night? What kind of brother are you?"

"Boomer, get out of bed. Right. Now."

Boomer stood. "Not until you explain why you left without saying goodbye. And don't say you wrote a letter because I deserved more than that!" He looked around. "Where are you?"

"Wake Boz and go through the emergency exit behind the painting."

Boomer looked at the painting in question; a portrait of their parents dressed in their royal garb. Was Brady already in the passageway that sometimes appeared behind the portrait? It sounded like he was closer.

"Boomer?" Boz's sleepy voice came from the other bed in the room. "What's wrong, why are you out of bed?"

Boomer frowned at the red head wondering how he'd missed all the yelling before he realized Boz hadn't ever met their brother and wouldn't recognize his voice. "It's Brady."

Boz sat up, eyes instantly alert. "What about him? Is he in trouble?"

Boomer thought back to all the anguish he'd felt after Brady had left with no warning. "He will be when I get a hold of him."

"He's here?"

"Didn't you hear him?"

Boz shook his head. "No."

"Boomer! Get out of there now!" Brady's voice was tinged with panic.

"That's it!" Boomer grabbed a pair of shoes and opened the portrait. He'd half expected to encounter the stone wall that was normally behind the painting, but the passageway was open. He surged forward, intent on finding his wayward brother.

"Boomer wait!" Boz jumped out of bed, grabbed his king ring, and followed Boomer through the opening. A few seconds later the castle was rocked by an explosion and they were thrown to the floor by its concussive force. Torches hanging on the wall fell and went out, leaving them in darkness.

* * *

Boz felt along the ground with his hands looking for one of the fallen torches. He sighed in relief when he finally found one, after that, it only took a second to strike a rock against the wall hard enough to give off a spark. The torch lit, casting their surroundings in an eerie light. Still holding the flickering torch, Boz rushed to where Boomer lay panting at the ceiling.

"Are you all right?

Boomer nodded and allowed Boz to help him up.

"I guess we're not going back that way," Boomer said.

Having assured himself of Boomer's well-being Boz followed his brother's gaze. Giant boulders blocked the way back. Darkness masked the way forward. He hoped the other end of the tunnel hadn't collapsed as well.

Boomer's head turned sharply, like he heard something. A strange look crossed his face and Boz had a second to wonder if it was annoyance or worry before Boomer ran into the darkness. Boz followed, and seconds later, he felt a rumbling under foot and rocks fell from the ceiling. Knowing an unstable stone tunnel was the worst place to be in an earthquake he ran, wondering if he would be able to shield his brother if the place fell in on them.

Why had Boomer chosen tonight, of all nights, to run off?

He had no idea how long they'd been running when Boomer finally stopped. They both bent double, breathing hard.

"Where are you?" Boomer asked, frustration clear in his voice despite the gasping breath.

Boz put a comforting hand on his brother's back. "I'm right here."

Boomer straightened. "Not you. Brady."

Boz frowned glancing behind them where more of the tunnel had collapsed. "Were you meeting him here?"

"No, he was here, calling to me, telling us to run. Didn't you hear him?"

Boz shook his head in answer, looking carefully at his brother's dark complexion. Boz had originally assumed his brother had been woken by a dream, but was beginning to suspect otherwise.

Servants and royal advisers had him told stories about Boomer and Brady. How they shared dreams and could even feel each other's pain. They had a connection that Boz could only wonder at and he felt the stirrings of an ugly emotion in his chest. He tamped it down as best as he could. Jealousy had no place in the present; they were still in danger.

Boomer's head whipped around again. "Brady? Wha – why?"

"What is it?"

"It's a wall," Boomer said, to the wall.

"Boomer?" Boz asked and looked at the wall too.

"Brady said go left."

"There's nothing there, just stone." If Boomer had given the direction he would have already been looking for a secret passageway in the rock, but he didn't have the same kind of faith in the brother he'd never met and wasn't sure was here.

Another rumbling sounded and Boz braced himself, ready to sprint down the tunnel again, but Boomer stayed still, watching the wall. Cracks formed and a few bricks fell. Through the new holes he could smell the refreshing scent of night air. Dropping the torch, Boz gripped the chiseled stone and began pulling it down brick by brick. A few seconds later Boomer joined in. Soon they had an opening big enough and they crawled through, anxious to be outside.

Stars twinkled in the clear sky and the wind brought the faint scent of smoke to his nose. In front of them, however, was a sheer cliff rising miles above. Behind them rock fell and he knew without looking that the tunnel they'd been in had finished collapsing. They couldn't go up, not that far, so they made their way along the riverbed until they found an area that sloped a little more gently and climbed.

It was a relief to finally see the thick vegetation that told him they were at ground level. Now all they had to do was make their way back to the castle and figure out what had happened. Boz turned to tell his brother his plan but Boomer was staring up at something, mouth open, face slack with shock. Following his brother's line of sight, he saw the castle. What was left of the castle. The tower where they'd been sleeping was gone. Smoke and fire engulfed what was left of the wing. They were too far away to hear, but flares of light he'd learned to associate with cannon fire could be seen along the castle wall, and more destruction was evident along the castle gates. He felt like he'd been punched in the stomach when a red and black flag rose from the courtyard, emblazoned with a fiery bird. Their castle had been taken.

* * *

Author's Notes: Normally I don't start posting until a story is completed. It is, however, completely outlined, so hopefully I won't leave you hanging for too long. Please review, I need the motivation. :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Boz nodded at the parrot, thanked it for the information. Boomer knew without asking that the bird hadn't given him any useful information by the way his brother's mouth thinned and his hands tightened on the tree branch.

Thanks to Boz's ability to speak with animals they had avoided the new patrols being sent from their old castle. But they hadn't found any other survivors. There were survivors. Boomer was certain of it. But the longer they went without finding them the harder it was to convince Boz of it.

"She said we're the only humans she's seen since the fire."

The fire is how the animals in the area remembered the night their castle was taken. That night they'd seen a lot of humans, fighting, bleeding, and burning things down. Scorch marks still marred the trees, and the foliage below them was black and burnt. Boomer had seen the blaze from a distance and was surprised by how little damage had been done. Higher up in the trees, where Boz had made a net for them to sleep in, you could almost forget there had been a fire.

Boomer swung his feet, allowing his untied shoelaces to brush the branch below. "We need to think like Mason, or Mikayla."

Boz looked intrigued. "They would find a place to hide. Somewhere secure where they could recruit."

"Probably not up here." Boomer wondered if he should tie his laces. Brady had always tripped when his laces were untied.

Boz nodded. "Sasquatch are strong, but they're not good climbers."

Brady tripped even when his laces were tied. Once, he'd found a cave girl frozen in a block of ice and Boomer had always suspected he'd found her by tripping over her. "Where was that cave?" Boomer wondered out loud.

"You're right." Boz stood, suddenly excited. "I shouldn't be asking tree animals where our subjects are. I should be asking cave animals." Boz shook his head, grinning. "You're brilliant."

Boomer brought one foot up and tied the laces. "I know. What was I brilliant about this time?"

Boz was already moving. "Come on, let's start looking for caves."

"Why are we looking for caves?" Boomer questioned. But Boz was too far ahead and didn't hear him. "Boz!"

Boz stopped and looked back.

Boomer finished tying his shoes. "We weren't all raised by monkeys."

"Sorry." Boz grabbed a vine and swung it to Boomer. "I'll climb; you use the vines."

* * *

Boz winced as he watched Boomer fall, thirty feet, from the vine. Maybe he shouldn't have let Boomer do that, but it was a lot faster than climbing from tree to tree. Boomer barely seemed to notice the hard fall and stood, brushing soot from his pajama pants. They hadn't dared get close enough to the castle to see if any of their things had survived. At least he had shoes, unlike Boz, who was doubly grateful for the thick callouses on his feet when he broke a stick on his final jump to the ground. Fire hardened the ground level, made it uncomfortable to walk on. But it's where Boomer was comfortable, and, even more important, where their people were comfortable. If Boomer was right, and he often was, Mason and Mikayla would have found a cave somewhere and made that their new base until they could take the castle back.

The fire hadn't lasted long, and there were new shoots of green already peeking through the soot. He suspected if he scraped some of the soot away from a couple of the larger piles of debris he'd find plants that hadn't been touched by flame. Which was good. It meant the fire probably hadn't been hot enough to scare off animals living underground.

It took a couple of minutes but he finally found what might be a giant gopher hole. He tapped his hand against it rhythmically, hoping to entice an occupant above ground. A few seconds later he was rewarded when a furry head popped up, looking around curiously. Not a giant gopher, but a large rabbit-like creature with the sensitive, star burst nose of a mole. He asked it if it had seen any humans living in a cave.

Soft brown eyes gazed at him unblinkingly and he wondered if it understood. After a while, however, its ears and nose twitched. "That way." The creature pointed with its ears. "They're timid. Scared of the ones who live in the high, broken rock."

Hope flared. He'd been talking to animals long enough to know it was describing their partially demolished castle. "How far that way?"

The odd looking nose twitched again. "Sixteen tunnels, four days."

Assuming the creature moved similar to a giant gopher, that would be about four leagues, if it was closer to the speed of a rabbit, maybe six. It would also put them dangerously close to the castle. Why would Mikayla and Mason be staying so close? Worry dropped in his chest. Maybe they'd been injured and couldn't afford to move farther away.

"It saw them?" Boomer asked, breaking Boz out of his reverie.

"I think so." Boz thanked the creature and stood. "This way."

The closer they got to the castle the more they had to avoid soldiers patrolling the area. Their pace slowed to a crawl and Boz gazed longingly at the tree branches above. Boomer couldn't travel through them the way he could, so they weren't an option.

"I don't know why you're being so careful." A male voice came from behind them.

Boz knelt and allowed Boomer to step into his hands. A few seconds later both brothers sat in the trees, safely hidden by leaves.

The voice below continued to talk. "It's been three days since the last stragglers were found. Everyone else has moved on."

Boz made sure Boomer was secure in his perch and crept carefully along the branch to look at the soldiers.

Both wore the now familiar red and black uniforms, a fiery bird emblazoned on their backs. The chatty one swung his sword idly, breaking clumps of ash from the trees.

The other soldier had his sword sheathed securely on his back and looked around carefully. "I think the Phoenix is more concerned with rebels banding."

"It's been two weeks since the takeover. There are no rebels."

A brightly colored bird, attracted by the rhythmic thumping of the sword, swooped in, barely missing Boz's head. Leaves rustled and fell. The noisy soldier didn't notice, but the other one looked up, shushing his partner.

The first soldier paused in his sword swinging, but he didn't stop talking. "What?"

"I heard something." The second soldier continued scanning the trees.

"Probably a bird. There are all kinds of things in this forest." His tone was dismissive, but he watched his partner's hands and they separated, circling the tree.

Boz glanced back. The rhythmic thumping had attracted more than one bird. Dozens of brightly colored birds surrounded his brother. Boomer swatted at them, trying to shoo them away. One of them squawked. "Here we are! Aren't we pretty?"

The bird closest to Boz responded. "Show me! Show me!"

Boz closed his eyes as the call was echoed by a dozen other birds above. They were in the middle of a mating song.

"Sure sounds like birds."

"Doesn't look like birds."

A net fell over the top of them, startling the birds away. Too late, Boz realized, they'd been revealed by a flock of birds. Rather than going for his pocket knife, he allowed the net to pull him to the forest floor. Boomer sat next to him, covered in net and soot, but otherwise uninjured.

"Looks like we found a couple birds who didn't fly the coop," the chatty soldier said, grinning at his own joke.

Boz palmed his knife and began cutting discreetly.

The other soldier looked at them carefully. "Why were you in the trees?"

"I should think that would be obvious," a female voice said from their left.

Both soldiers reached for their weapons, but neither one made it before they were hit on the head from behind. Their eyes rolled into the backs of their heads and they crumbled to the ground. Mason stood over them ready, in case they got back up.

"Mikayla!" Boomer said, struggling with the net.

"My kings!" Mason's deep, rumbling voice was just as welcome as Mikayla's.

"Where have you been?" Mikayla demanded, and cut a hole in Boomer's net. "Everyone thought you were dead."

"Almost everyone." Mason sounded smug.

Mikayla rolled her eyes. "Yes, almost everyone." She helped Boomer to his feet. "How did you make it out?"

Mason pulled out his machete, ready to cut the net around Boz, but Boz had already loosened it enough to get out on his own. Still, he took Mason's hand and allowed himself to be pulled up.

"Boomer got us out before the first strike," Boz said.

Boomer shook his head. "Brady woke me up. Told me to get out."

"Brady?" Mikayla looked around, though oddly, not up. "Is he here?"

"I couldn't find him. I just heard him yelling at us to run."

"Did you hear him?" Mason asked Boz.

Boz shook his head and Mikayla and Mason exchanged a look. Sometimes he wondered if it would have been more beneficial to learn the unspoken language of people rather than animals.

"Did anyone else make it out?" Boz asked, effectively cutting off all talk of Brady.

"Some," Mikayla said quietly. "Not many, but some."

At the reminder of their circumstances Mikayla and Mason herded Boz and Boomer together.

"Let's get you back to base," Mason said, practically picking Boomer up in his haste. "We can fill you in there."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Base turned out to be a spacious cave at the end of a mile-long tunnel. A giant boulder blocked the entrance, but Mikayla moved it easily. It fell back into place with enough force to rock the ground and Boomer wondered why Brady liked her so much; the girl was scary.

Close to a hundred people lingered around the cave; tunnels lead to other openings. There was even a stream of fresh water that ran through the center of it.

"I thought you said not many made it out?" Boz said looking around with surprise.

"Not many from the castle," Mason explained. "The refugees from the other islands got here a couple of days ago."

That got Boomer's attention. "Other islands?"

Mason nodded. "All seven islands were taken over at the same time."

Boz pursed his lips. "How's that even possible?"

Mason shrugged. "I don't know. Now that you're here maybe we'll find out. Come on, the Seer of Sununu wants to talk to you."

Boomer thought of the pretty queens of Sununu and suddenly remembered he was still in his pajamas. "Maybe we should get some pants on first."

* * *

The Seer of Sununu was a middle aged man with glowing blue eyes. His odd eyes latched onto them as soon as they entered the small chamber and he smiled. "Which one of you opened the Refugee Cave?"

Boomer blinked. "The what?"

The seer turned to Boz. "It would be you then."

Boz shook his head and answered slowly as if afraid of spooking the crazy man. "I don't know what you're talking about either."

The seer's dark eyebrows drew together in frustration. "The Refugee Cave." He gestured to their surroundings. "It expands to accommodate the number of people it shelters, provides a source of food and water. And can only be opened by Kinkowan royalty in times of stress. One of you opened the cave."

"This is a magic cave?" Boomer looked at the water basin sitting on the floor. "Cool."

"There are other members of the royal family you know," Boz said logically.

The seer waved his hand dismissively. "Lanny doesn't have enough magic and Brady isn't on the island anymore. That leaves the two of you."

Boomer thought of Brady's voice waking him up, telling him to run. Seers didn't know everything, not even ones from Sununu.

"Why does it matter?" Mikayla said.

Boomer spun, bumping into Boz. He'd forgotten Mikayla and her father had followed them in.

The seer looked at Mikayla with something close to pity, though the glowing eyes made it hard to tell. "The scrying basin is linked to the cave." He spoke as if explaining something to a small child. "So whoever opened it has to activate it." He gestured to the basin of water on the floor. "If we can activate it we can figure out how the Phoenix took over the island chain."

"Is there a way to figure out which one of them opened it?"

The seer shook his head. "No."

Mason folded his arms across his chest and blocked the entrance.

The seer's eyes narrowed and he glanced at the basin. "Maybe."

Boomer wondered if Mason did that kind of thing on purpose or if it was a natural part of being both very big and very strong.

The seer turned back to Boomer and Boz. "Do you have your king rings?"

Boz pulled his ring out of his pocket and Boomer raised his hand to show the ring on his finger.

"Good." The seer nodded. "Drop them in the basin."

Boomer raised his eyebrows but did as he was asked. Boz checked to make sure Mason was still guarding the entrance before following suit.

"This'll take a few minutes." The seer turned his back on them and began chanting over the water.

Boomer and Boz edged closer to Mikayla and Mason.

"What's he doing?" Boz asked.

Mason shrugged and Mikayla said, "Who knows."

"Are the Sununu queens here?" Boomer asked.

"No," Mason said, still watching the seer. "You're the only royals who avoided capture." He looked down at them, eyes filled with sympathy. "They even took Lanny."

Boomer was horrified at the thought of their sweet cousin being taken. "Little Lanny?"

Boz shook his head. "Poor Lanny, we need to find a way to rescue him." He looked at the seer. "And the rest of them."

Mason nodded. "The first step is to find out how this was done. It shouldn't have been possible. Especially now that the dark side of the island is gone."

A flash of light came from the water and the seer waved an arm. "I need the kings here please."

Their king rings floated in the center of the water, circling each other slowly.

The seer stood. "Place your hands in the water."

Another flash of light accompanied the motion and a ball of water floated into the air. The seer cupped his hands around the ball without touching it and forced it to the cave wall. When it hit the stone it flattened into a circle. It looked a lot like a mirror now, with a milky white haze over its surface.

"What's that?" Mikayla no longer stood by her father at the entrance, but now stood behind her kings eyes fixed on the far wall.

"It's a projection of the skrying basin, linked to the kings' magic. Once I link it to the cave's magic, it'll show us which one of them opened the cave." He glared back at Mason. "It's a lot of work and a lot of magic for something so simple. But it'll give us the information we need."

Mason cocked his head pleasantly, an amused smile on his face.

"Ready?" The seer said to no one in particular, and started chanting at the wall.

It took a while, and Boomer wondered if taking his hands out of the water would interrupt the spell. They were starting to wrinkle. He forgot all about dish pan hands when the image formed on the wall. It wasn't him and it wasn't Boz.

It was Brady.

* * *

Boz had seen pictures of Brady. Knew what he looked like. But the face on the wall wasn't what he'd expected. Brady's eyes were closed, his lashes dark against extremely pale skin. Dark hair curled around his face, stuck to his forehead with sweat. There was an unhealthy cast to his skin and his cheeks were sunken in, making him look like a wax figure. If it wasn't for the motion of his chest as he breathed Boz might have thought him dead.

"Is there a way to get a wider view? See where he is?" Mikayla's voice sounded strained.

The seer nodded and moved his hands apart from each other. Like a camera pulling back, the picture changed. Brady slept on a low cot, a threadbare blanket covered his too still form. There wasn't anything else in the room, just an expanse of gray rock. A metal door clanked open and Boz jumped at the sound, glancing behind him wondering where the door was. But the others continued to look at the wall.

The metal door that had opened wasn't in the cave with them, but in Brady's cell. He could tell that now, Brady was in a prison, or dungeon, and the cell door had opened to let in a small woman. Brown hair hung in waves around her soft face and the plain, gray dress she wore was clean and well kept.

Boz didn't see anyone close the door, but it clanked shut behind her all the same. Putting down the tray of supplies, she knelt next to the sleeping Brady. Her motions were gentle and smooth as she wiped the sweat off Brady's face and wrung out the rag. When she was done she took Brady's wrist in her hand and felt his pulse, watching sand move through the minute glass on the table. Whatever the result, she seemed pleased and pulled something out of a pouch at her waist.

Palm up, she blew a cloud of glittery dust into Brady's face. Brady's body shuddered and convulsed. A wheezing cough erupted from his chest and she helped roll him over so he could retch into the bucket at her feet. When he finished she held a glass to his lips and helped him drink.

"Wha- what happened?" Brady's voice was rough and dry.

Putting the mostly full glass back on the tray she grabbed the rag and wiped Brady's face again. "You passed out, stopped breathing. Kamala freaked out and called me."

Brady's eyes blinked slowly as he considered her words. "How long?"

Boz didn't know what Brady was asking but the woman seemed to.

"Two weeks."

Watching her with drawn eyebrows Brady frowned, as if debating whether or not he believed her words. "I've been. . ." A wheezing cough interrupted his speech and she turned him over, so he could vomit again.

"You've been unconscious for two weeks. It's gonna take a while for your strength to return, so don't overdo it."

"My brothers?"

"Are still alive," she said.

Brady closed his eyes and exhaled in relief.

"You nearly killed yourself warning them." She forced the cup to his lips. "But it worked."

"What makes you think . . .?" Another cough prevented him from finishing the sentence, but again, she seemed to understand.

"Brady," she chided gently, "I'm an expert in magical theory. I know what you did. I know how you did it. I even know why you did it. The only thing I don't know is how you knew when to do it."

Brady turned his head and closed his eyes.

"It's all right," she said. "You don't have to tell me." She mixed something into what was left of Brady's drink. "Kamala was furious. She thinks someone gave her bad intel about where they were."

Brady opened his eyes and looked at her. "You didn't . . .?"

Smiling brightly, she put the cup to Brady's mouth. Once Brady accepted the mouthful she continued talking. "I told her it was her fault you collapsed, that it was bound to happen eventually. Even indulged in a little 'I told you so'. I've been telling her for two years that she can't keep draining you without giving your body time to recover."

Brady's blink rate slowed down and Boz could tell he was about to fall asleep again.

The woman's expression turned serious as she put the empty cup back on the tray. "I need you to promise you won't do it again."

Brady nodded, but Boz wasn't sure he was listening.

"I'm serious, Brady. There's a right way and a wrong way to project your consciousness. You did it wrong and used up too much energy, it almost killed you."

Silence met her and she glanced in Brady's direction. Her face softened.

Brady had curled up in the fetal position under the blanket and was asleep once again.

She picked up the waste bucket and tapped three times on the cell door. It opened for her. "We'll talk about this later," she said quietly. The door clanked shut behind her and Brady didn't move.

* * *

"Is there any way to track this? Figure out where he is?" Mason asked.

The seer's eyes widened. "No, it's linked to the cave, a tracking spell would only lead back here."

Mason growled at the response and the seer took a step back.

Since Boomer was the only one still watching Brady sleep Boz pulled his hands out of the water and stood. The image on the wall didn't change.

"Two years." Mikayla didn't seem to notice she'd spoken, but they turned to her anyway. "She said she'd been warning this Kamala for two years." Mikayla spun towards her father. "Brady left the island two years ago."

"He has to be on the island," the seer offered. "My spell is powerful, but not enough to cross the ocean."

"It's a big island," Mason said. "It would take decades to search it. Especially with how small our group is now."

"Brady's in America." Boomers hands were still in the water and he stared at his sleeping brother. "He went back to school and has been busy."

Sensing weakness, the seer turned his glowing eyes to Boomer. "Did you go see him?"

Eyes bright, Boomer kept talking, as if he hadn't heard. "He left in the middle of the night. No warning, just a note with his king ring next to it."

The seer turned his incredulous gaze to Mason. "You accepted that your king abdicated his throne and left the island based on a note?"

Mikayla jumped to her father's defense. "We would have gone after him, but there was a storm."

"And after the storm?"

Mason glanced at Boz. "We were distracted."

Boz knew he was talking about him. They hadn't gone after Brady because they suddenly had another king.

"Would it be too much to assume a truth spell was cast on the note?"

Mason and Mikayla looked at the ground and the seer sighed. "I suppose it's too late now. The note would have been lost in the fire."

"It's not," Boomer pulled his hands out of the water. Brady's image faded from the wall. "It's right here."

Mikayla's eyebrows rose. "You didn't grab pants before you left, but you brought the letter?"

Boomer cocked his head, an indignant look on his face. "It's the last thing he wrote to me. I always have it."

Again Boz felt jealousy churn in his stomach at Boomer's undeniable devotion to their brother.

The seer broke in before anyone could comment. "May I see it?"

Boomer held it out but the seer didn't touch it. Instead, the glowing in his eyes intensified as he examined it.

"This is Legend Paper."

"How can you tell?" Mason asked, for the first time, stepping away from the door.

"It's simple enough if you have the right vision."

"What's Legend Paper?" Boz demanded. Sometimes he hated that he hadn't grown up around humans. There were a lot of things that everyone but him seemed to know.

Mikayla answered him. "It's enchanted to make whoever reads what's on it believe the story without question. The more plausible the story, the more likely people are to believe it."

Boz nodded. "That explains why no one questioned its validity."

"Put it on the ground in front of you please," the seer said, blinking his strange eyes.

"What are you gonna do?" Boz asked, pulling Boomer away from the note.

"What should have been done two years ago," the seer said. "Cast a truth spell."

"What'll that do?" Boomer asked, watching the piece of paper warily.

"If what's written on it is true, nothing." The seer pulled something glittery out of a pouch at his waist. "If what's written on it is false, the paper will burst into flames."

"What if only part of it's false?" Boz asked.

"Then only part of it will burn."

A few seconds after the spell was cast the paper began to glow, getting brighter and brighter until Boz was forced to turn his eyes away. When he looked back, the paper was on fire.

As the flame died out, leaving behind a pile of ash, the seer spoke. "I think it's safe to say King Brady never left the island."

* * *

 **I feel like this chapter needs a little bit of an explanation since I'm deviating from cannon at this point. It never really sat well with me how Brady left the island. The brothers were so close, even if he had left, it seemed odd that they didn't keep in touch. In my head, this is what really happened. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**I didn't make my self appointed posting deadline, but to make up for it, we have a long chapter this time.**

* * *

 **Chapter Four**

The cave expanded every time a new refugee showed up, but the steady stream of people had turned into a trickle and, as the days turned into weeks, the Phoenix's hold on the islands became stronger. Loyal subjects sent word through the underground communication channel that there was still a strong military presence in the towns and provinces, but life for the locals had gone mostly back to normal.

Boomer's life wasn't back to normal.

Weeks of hunting and they were still no closer to finding Brady or any of the captured royals. He was getting frustrated and wished he had Brady's letter to read, even though it was a fake. The seer said the fact that not even Brady's signature survived the truth spell, meant he couldn't have written it. Mikayla guessed the person who'd packed some of Brady's things and ridden away in the hot air balloon was a doppelganger sent to throw them off Brady's trail. Still, the letter had been Boomer's connection to his brother for a long time, and he missed it like a limb.

During their morning pow wow it had been suggested they try the skrying basin again. Boomer agreed reluctantly. Desperate as he was to see Brady again, he wasn't sure he wanted to see him weak and helpless like the last time. There was just something wrong with the idea of Brady being helpless. Despite his misgivings, he sat next to Boz waiting for the seer to finish his spell.

This time there was more than just Mikayla and Mason in the room. A few of the elders who had escaped the Phoenix's initial purge lined the wall watching curiously. They'd all seemed to know what the seer was talking about when he suggested this so Boomer assumed they wouldn't be surprised by what they saw.

"You can put your hands in the water now," the seer said.

The image on the wall formed slower this time, but was also clearer. Like someone had adjusted the color on a TV. Brady was singing.

Guitar in hand, he plucked out a slow, melancholy melody. As the words got darker the music became louder, more powerful. When the music faded the silence seemed stronger somehow. It wasn't the kind of music Boomer was used to hearing from his brother. Brady had always preferred songs you could dance to. He wondered how many other things had changed over the last two years.

"I see you're feeling better."

Brady nearly dropped his guitar. The woman who spoke was about the same age as the healer from earlier but that's where the resemblance ended. Tall and regal, she walked as if expecting fanfare. Her blood red dress was oddly spiked and her dark hair had been pulled up, similarly ringed with red.

Brady didn't look at her, instead focused on packing the guitar in its case and placing it carefully under the bed.

The woman tapped her foot. "Come now darlin', don't dawdle. You know the drill."

Brady's body went rigid when she spoke, but he stood. For the first time Boomer noticed a chain locked around Brady's ankle. It rattled as he walked and Boomer traced it to a metal ring on the wall. Why would you lock someone up alone in a cell and still need to chain them to the wall?

As he reached the bars to his cell Brady hesitated.

The woman noticed. "The sooner you move the sooner we get this over with."

Brady swallowed and wrapped his hands around the bars. Shackles appeared and molded themselves around Brady's wrists.

The woman smiled. Rather than softening her face, the expression angled it, making her look sinister. Her arms rose and she began chanting. A glowing white cloud formed around Brady's body and Brady closed his eyes, bracing himself against the bars. When the woman's hand touched the cloud Brady's body convulsed and he screamed in agony.

Boomer put his hands to his ears, trying to block out his brother's screams. Sound dimmed but it didn't block out what was happening on the wall. Eventually, the woman stopped chanting and Brady fell.

Uncontrollable shivers wracked Brady's body and he panted, head hanging in between his arms chained to the bars above him. At least he'd stopped screaming. The woman put a finger under Brady's chin and looked into his teary eyes.

"You can handle one more, right?" She didn't wait for an answer, just let Brady's head drop and began chanting again.

Boomer ran from the room as his brother screamed.

* * *

Boz raced after Boomer as Brady's image faded from the wall. It wasn't hard to figure out where Boomer was headed. There were only a few places the kings could go to be alone. Sure enough, Boomer turned a corner and disappeared into the alcove at the top of the wall. Boz followed easily.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Boomer spoke. "What have I done?"

Confused, Boz frowned. "You haven't done anything."

"Exactly!" Boomer stood and hit his head on the low ceiling. He sat back down, rubbing the top of his head. "I haven't done anything. Brady's been there for two years and I didn't even look for him."

"You looked."

"For a day! As soon as I found you I stopped looking. Just assumed he was in America, happy without me. I didn't even send him a letter." Boomer put his face in his hands. "I was mad at him for leaving."

Boz didn't know what to say. In a way, he'd been mad at Brady for leaving too. Mad at the pain he'd caused Boomer; that he'd been denied the chance to get to know his other brother. At the same time, he'd been grateful for Brady's absence. It would have been hard to form a bond with either one of them if they'd been together when he came to Kinkow.

"We'll get him back," Boz said with conviction. He thought of how Brady had risked everything to save them the night the Phoenix armies attacked and a new emotion filled him. A protective fury he only felt when someone messed with his family. "We have to."

* * *

It took a while to settle Boomer down, but he managed it. When he was sure his brother would sleep for a while Boz went looking for the seer. He wasn't hard to find. Everyone was still in the scrying room, talking quietly.

Mikayla noticed him first. "How is he?"

"He'll be all right." Boz nodded toward the wall where Brady's image had been. "That was hard on him."

Mikayla's eyes shone with unshed tears and Boz wondered if it had been equally hard on her. The others shuffled their feet, avoiding his gaze.

It was the seer who spoke first. "We learned a few things."

Boz looked at him expectantly.

The seer cleared his throat and continued. "There's been some rumblings about the Phoenix being a woman, but no one was really sure. Now we know. We also know how she took over the islands all at once."

"We think we know," one of the elders corrected.

The seer shot him a look of disdain. "What we just saw was a magic transfer ritual. It forces the magic out of your body and allows another person to absorb it. I'm told it feels a lot like your skin is being peeled off."

Boz closed his eyes, trying to get that image out of his head.

"Anyway," the seer continued, "that's what she's done. She's drained King Brady's magic and stockpiled it over the years. Then, when she had enough, she used it to overpower all the islands at once. It's quite ingenious actually." There was a note of admiration in the seer's voice and Boz tried to ignore it.

"She's been doing that to him every day? For two years?" Boz felt sick.

The seer blinked, as if only now considering the implications of what he'd said. "Given the amount of magic she used to take over the islands. Probably."

Boz shook his head and tried to force himself to think logically. "Why Brady? Couldn't she have done that with someone a little less high profile?"

The seer shook his head. "No, she could have only done that with one of you." He gestured for Boz to sit.

Boz stayed standing.

The seer cleared his throat again. "You see; most people carry a fairly constant amount of magic in their bodies. Once the magic's expelled it takes a day or two for the body to re-absorb the magic from their surroundings. Kinkowan royalty is unique because you don't absorb magic from your surroundings. You generate it."

"The whole island structure is built around the idea," one of the elders explained. "Your king rings absorb the magic you exude and stores it for later use, even the castle is designed to channel the magic back into the island."

"Of course, the way the island does it is painless," the seer said, eyes bright once again. "As you do things that require magic, the island and the rings absorb a small part of what you're using. Makes your spells slightly less powerful, but that's it. It's also why so much of the island reacts to your magic, it's been built on it."

"Most Kinkowan royalty find a way to expel the magic early in life," Mikayla said. "Lanny has his whole, 'popping up out of nowhere' thing, you can talk to animals. Once, we had a king who could see into the future."

"But Boomer and Boz grew up in Chicago," the seer interrupted, frowning at Mikayla. "A place where magic doesn't exist. No matter what they did, they were constantly being told it wasn't possible and because of that magic built up in their systems. And since too much magic can be as dangerous to the body as too much of anything else, their bodies destroyed their logic and balance centers in an effort to get them to do things that would require magic."

"That's only a theory!" one of the elders, argued. "There's no real evidence that our kings were damaged by their magic."

The seer continued as if the elder hadn't interrupted. "It didn't work very well. Mostly they ended up doing things to hurt themselves and their magic turned to healing."

He glanced at the elder who'd spoken earlier. "There's no denying they heal faster than they should. Especially from debilitating injuries."

He turned back to Boz. "I think it's why they have an inappropriate response to danger. They're sensitive to how much it hurts and not necessarily how long it'll take to recover. And since their bodies heal bad injuries faster than minor ones a paper cut is a bigger deal than a broken pelvis." The seer peered closely at Boz and those creepy eyes glowed brighter. "Being around Boomer for so long, your magic has probably learned that healing ability."

Boz thought back to when they fell from the pterodactyl in their final fight with Kaita. As much as he hated to admit it, the seer was probably right. A two-hundred-foot fall should have killed them, or at least broken some bones.

"She didn't know you were alive, so she was left with two choices, take Brady, or take Boomer. Brady was probably the easier target because of his sleepwalking."

"For being the seer of Sununu, you know a lot about Kinkowan royalty," Mikayla said.

The seer shrugged, dismissing her comment. "Kinkowan royalty is what keeps us afloat. Without the magic they channel into the area the island chain would sink. We believe in understanding what keeps us alive."

Mason's expression darkened and Boz decided to interrupt before a fight broke out. "So, she took Brady because she could absorb his magic without diminishing the magic on the island as a whole?"

The seer nodded. "And as long as she has him, she has an unlimited source of magic. She'll be impossible to beat."

* * *

Humming woke Brady. Soft and melodious, it relaxed his aching body and he tried to sink back into oblivion.

The humming stopped. "Think you can eat?"

Haylee, the healer, hovered over his bed armed with extra pillows. Brady wished she'd hum again and let him go back to sleep. Experience taught him that wouldn't happen so he did his best to sit up and allowed her to prop him against the wall with pillows. It wasn't until he reached for the soup that he noticed the bandages on his hands.

Haylee noticed his gaze. "Kamala left you hanging after you passed out. The tops of your hands are pretty damaged."

It wasn't the first time it had happened and it probably wouldn't be the last. The worst part was, he wouldn't be able to play the guitar until they healed.

"How long?" Brady asked, accepting the bowl. No spoon, that was OK, he didn't need a spoon.

"Bandages will come off in a couple of days." She pushed the bowl to his mouth and made him drink. "You won't be away from your guitar long."

When Kamala had first brought Haylee in, he'd been unnerved by her seeming ability to read minds, but he'd gotten used to it. Brady debated asking her about his brothers.

There used to always be news. A rumor or story about their escapades; that had slowed down a little after they'd defeated the dark side, but they'd managed to get into a few scrapes on their own since.

"Still no word on your brothers," Haylee said.

It was good news. It really was. He would only hear if the Phoenix found his brothers, and if she did, she would kill them. Because, unlike the other royals she'd imprisoned to keep control of their loyal nations, the "Kings of Legend" were a threat to her power. She'd planned on killing them in the initial attack, which is why he'd been so desperate to warn them before the first strike happened. Still, he wanted to know how they were, if they'd found the refugees he'd helped to the cave, or if they were still on their own.

"You want another bowl?"

Brady looked at the empty bowl in his hands. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten that much. "No."

Haylee took the bowl from him and pulled up a stool so she could redress his bandages. Angry red marks ringed his wrists, but the real damage had been done to the tops of his hands where the bars had dug in. Small bones and bits of tendon could be seen peeking through the shredded skin and it was a relief when they were covered again.

"You never did tell me how you knew when Kamala was going to strike." Haylee kept her eyes on his hands but Brady felt a compulsion to talk, give her the information she asked for. He felt that a lot around her and was only now starting to wonder if it was part of her magic.

"Brady?"

The compulsion increased, but Brady held his ground. Precious little had been left to him, he was keeping this to himself.

Haylee sighed. "I'm on your side you know."

"You help her."

"I keep you alive."

Brady thought of his near daily "sessions" with Kamala. Of Boomer and Boz. How happy they were, and how they'd dispelled the dark side of the island. All without him. He wasn't sure if he was grateful to Haylee or not.

Haylee finished tying the bandages. "The numbing will wear off in a couple of hours." She nodded to a bottle of blue liquid on the tray. "I'll leave something here to help you sleep when it does."

All of her medicine was blue, he didn't know why. Maybe the color helped her magic? Or maybe she just liked blue.

She paused on her way out the door. "You know, this isn't forever. What Kamala did, taking over the islands like that? It couldn't have been done without king magic. People know that. Eventually, someone will figure out what really happened and when they do, they'll come for you."

It was something he'd told himself a thousand times over the last couple of years. Eventually, Boomer would realize he hadn't gotten so much as an e-mail from him, eventually, his aunt and uncle would notice they hadn't seen or heard from him. But after two years, eventually no longer seemed possible. He heard Haylee sigh and the door clanged shut behind her.

Closing his eyes, he sank into the pastime that had kept him sane before he'd been granted the guitar. Spying on Kamala.

Not long after one of his early sessions with Kamala, before she'd brought Haylee in, Brady had realized he could sense the magic she'd stolen from him. At first he'd tried touching the magic with his mind, hoping to find a way to tap into it and free himself. When that failed, he'd followed the small thread of magic connected to Kamala's pendant in hopes of learning how she did it. Projecting his consciousness into the room had been an accident. He still hadn't found a way to tap into his stolen magic, but he had learned other things, like when the attack on Kinkow Castle was happening.

Right now Kamala and Haylee were arguing.

* * *

"I have the beginnings of a rebel force banding." Kamala paced up and down the length of her throne room, red cape flaring dramatically with the movement. "The kings of legend are still unaccounted for and you're telling me I can't shore up my magic?"

Haylee stood still, watching the other woman warily. "I'm telling you, you can't expect to replace two years' worth of stockpiled magic in one month."

Kamala narrowed her black rimmed eyes. "Every time you come to me it's to give him more time, another break, a freaking guitar. And I've listened to you because you're the best. I trust that you know what you're doing, but I'm starting to wonder if your loyalties have shifted." Red lips twisted cruelly. "You aren't getting sweet on him are you?"

Haylee didn't blink. "If he dies we all die. You know it as well as I do. Have you noticed how much weight he's lost? How little he eats? He's depressed and lethargic, something's going to give. And when it does, I won't be able to save any of us."

They stared at each other, like dogs battling for dominance.

A guard walked in, paused, and walked out again. He knocked on the door frame. Their attention turned to him.

"Excuse me your majesty." He bowed, keeping his eyes on the floor. "There's been an incident between the Flagi and the Dirt Fairies. Also, the Squonks are refusing to control the Mooka Rats until their Queen has been released."

"Is the Squonk representative here?" Kamala asked.

"Yes, your majesty.

Kamala sat down in her throne. "Send him in."

The guard hurried to comply and Haylee moved to her regular corner where she was mostly hidden in between a giant potted plant and a brightly colored tapestry. She blended in with the gray part of the wall so well that Brady could barely see her, even knowing she was there.

Squonks were small creatures, short and stocky with gray skin and exaggerated features. The Squonk that walked in was smaller than most, not as stocky, but he walked confidently, small eyes shining with defiance.

Kamala regarded him thoughtfully. "You may speak."

Squaring his shoulders, the Squonk spoke. "As you know, my people are the only reason the Mooka rats don't overtake the island and kill everyone in the process." He paused, as if expecting a comment but was met with silence, so he continued. "Unless our Queen is released immediately the rats will take over the island."

There was another pause, and the Squonk opened his mouth, probably ready to describe the mayhem that would occur if the rats were allowed free reign, but she cut him off.

"Let me tell you what's going to happen." Her voice was quiet and controlled. "The first time I hear of a Mooka rat attack; your queen will die."

She cocked her head and inspected her blood red nails. "No doubt, after that, the rat attacks will increase, and I'll let it happen for a while. Just long enough for the death and destruction to really be felt by the people."

She turned back to the horrified Squonk. "Then, I will ride out with my armies and my magic and triumphantly conquer the rats. It'll increase my standing in the people's eyes, help me achieve greater authority and make the people think maybe, just maybe, I should have been ruling them all along."

Her eyes narrowed. "But because you defied me I will also let it be known that the Squonks could have gotten rid of the rats at any time and let all those people die and towns be destroyed simply because they wanted the political edge subduing the rats would give them. The Squonks will become the most reviled race on the island. And your people will hide in your little tunnels to avoid persecution rather than the clean streets of the city."

To his credit, the Squonk kept his back straight and his eyes on the Phoenix Queen. He would probably start shaking after he left the castle.

Kamala gave him a minute to consider her words. "Do we understand each other?"

The Squonk nodded.

"Good." Kamala waved her hand lazily and the guard escorted the Squonk outside.

"Is their queen still alive?" Haylee asked, eyes still on the doorway where the Squonk had left.

Kamala's smile widened. "You know me so well." She stood, stretching her arms over her head. "I'm going to be gone for a few days to take care of this little issue between the Dirt Fairies and the Flagi. So our song bird will have a bit of a break. And since I'm in a good mood, I'll even agree to your one session a day policy."

"Don't leave the shackles on."

Kamala looked confused. "Shackles?"

Haylee narrowed her eyes. "You left him attached to the bars this morning. His hands are shredded."

"Oh." Kamala blinked in surprise. "Is that what this was about?"

Haylee nodded slowly.

Kamala laughed, shoulders dropping in relief. "What if we find a way for them to release on their own after an hour, then it won't matter if I forget."

"Ten minutes."

"Forty."

"Fifteen."'

"Fifteen is barely long enough to complete a transfer," Kamala argued. "Half an hour."

Haylee shook her head. "That's long enough for permanent nerve damage."

"Not for our little song bird. I'll agree to thirty minutes, no less."

Brady knew Kamala had drawn her line in the sand, and apparently so did Haylee because she nodded reluctantly.

Kamala brought her hands together in excitement. "Wonderful. I'll see you in a couple of days."

Still standing by the plant and the tapestry, Haylee watched the Phoenix leave. A worried frown crossed her face and Brady wondered who the worry was for.

* * *

 **Pair of Kings was a wonderfully cracky show that made little effort to make sense of the things they did. But I need structured magic, hence, the explanation of how the kings' magic works and why so many things on the island react to them the way they do. Hopefully it didn't slow the story down too much.  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**I don't like this chapter; I wrote it three times and I still don't like it. Before I started on my fourth version I decided to just post it as is, otherwise you might have been waiting a very long time for me to finally find a version I think is worth sharing. Hopefully it's not as bad as I think it is.**

* * *

 **Chapter Five**

Festivals were a way of life on Kinkow and Mikayla loved them. Whether it was the Harvest Festival, Honey Bee Festival, Chocolate Festival, Flying Fruit Festival, or any of the other many celebrations held throughout the year. They were always an event; something to look forward to. Brady had once told her he found them exhausting. To him they were always preparing for, putting on, or cleaning up after, a festival with no down time in between to rest.

She'd dismissed it at the time. Assumed he was just being his usual eccentric self. But now she thought she understood the sentiment. The kings had never been allowed to just sit back and enjoy the festivals. They were presiding over, judging, or working in some other way while everyone else had fun. Like she was today.

For the third time in two weeks Mikayla found herself watching the dancers and wishing she could join in. She looked like every other girl here, dressed as she was in a pink skirt and top, complete with matching shoes that made her feet hurt and her calves look fabulous. Her hair, which had been washed in a rinse to make it look darker, was pulled up and braided elaborately on the top of her head. Whenever she passed a reflective surface she didn't recognize herself. Which was kind of the point. She was in disguise, gathering information and picking out recruits for the resistance.

Putting the idea of joining the dancers out of her head, she scanned the crowd. Looking for that telltale look a person had when they were both uncomfortable with the ever present Phoenix soldiers and willing to do something about it. A likely candidate would be researched carefully, maybe followed for a few days, before someone approached them in their place of work or met them casually on the road to talk about things that could get them both arrested. It took a long time, and was a lot of work, but the number of their supporters was growing rapidly. Sooner, rather than later, they would have enough people to begin plotting the kings' return to power.

A woman in blue caught her attention. She didn't know why. The woman was clearly uncomfortable with the Phoenix soldiers, but her hunched shoulders and indirect gaze were more indicative of someone whose fight had been crushed long ago. Not the kind of person they needed to recruit. A harried looking woman rocking a colicky baby crossed her path and the woman in blue stopped her. They talked for a minute and the woman with the baby walked away with a small blue vial clutched to her chest like a lifeline.

Suddenly Mikayla knew why the woman in blue had caught her attention. She was the healer attending Brady the night they found out he was still on the island.

Her breath caught in her throat and for a second she didn't know what to do. Should she follow the woman? See if she led her to Brady? Maybe she could confront her. Lure her into an alley somewhere, knock her over the head and cart her back to base so they could force the information out of her.

A young man with dark hair and blue eyes approached hesitantly. "May I have this dance?" He held his hand out, face full of hope.

Mikayla glanced back to the healer to make sure she wasn't going anywhere and took the young man's hand. It would look strange if she didn't join in the festivities.

Dancing proved to be a good idea. From where they spun on the dance floor she could see all of the Phoenix guards as well as the healer. One guard had separated from his post, following the woman with the colicky baby. Mikayla spun on her heel, forcing her partner to alter his steps.

"That's all right," he said with a smile, "you can lead." They continued the dance.

Another woman approached the healer, and they spoke for a minute before parting. The guards' eyes followed, making note of her appearance and the direction she went. Of course, the Phoenix wouldn't let maybe the only other person on the island who knew where Brady was, go out without being watched. She wondered if the Phoenix had bothered to make up a story to explain to the guards why they were making note of and tracking everyone the healer talked to. They were too good at what they did to be the kind of soldiers that were ignored and dismissed by their leader.

What was she going to do now? If she approached or followed the healer the guards would notice and her cover would be blown. They couldn't afford to lose track of their first real lead in finding King Brady.

She spun her partner, trying to get a better view of the plaza. Eight guards on the ground, four on the roofs. There was no way she'd be able to follow the healer without someone noticing. The healer moved, and Mikayla spun her partner again, was the woman leaving? The festival wasn't even half over; she couldn't be leaving. But there she was, bag on her shoulder, walking toward the exit.

Panicked, Mikayla pulled her partner towards her. She put too much pressure on the back of her foot and the flimsy heel snapped. Instinctively, she held on to her partner, but he was already off balance and she pulled him with her as she fell. The boy's arms flailed in an attempt to stay upright, and for a second she thought he'd succeeded when the post he'd grabbed popped out of the ground. Decorations flew, people screamed, and the raised dance platform dropped at an angle. They slid across it, along with the rest of the dancers and Mikayla tucked her chin to her chest as her back hit the ground.

A flash of blue caught her eye; the healer was sprawled next to her, expression pained as she watched bottles and herbs scatter in front of the crowd. Inspiration struck. In her own bag, still sitting quietly by the stairs, was a tracking stone. The seer of Sununu had created a couple dozen of them in case someone was captured and needed rescuing. They didn't work over long distances, and only told you the direction you needed to go, but it would be enough for her to follow the healer without the guards noticing.

Her dance partner was still trying to pull himself out of the tangle of limbs so she abandoned him and slithered over to her pink bag. It wasn't there. No, it had to be there, she dug into the purse, using a little too much force. The seam split and the perfectly round stone fell to the ground. She grabbed the stone, abandoned her purse, and hurried back to the healer, who was still gathering the scattered items. Guards surrounded the group watching as everyone regained their footing but no one glanced her way. Hopefully no one had noticed her departure.

She pretended to trip on her uneven heal and knelt in front of the healer. Where to put the stone? She couldn't be seen handing the healer anything, the guards were already making note of the people helping her gather her things. A small bag of herbs lay under a broken board. Mikayla grabbed it, slipped the stone inside and put it on top of the board so it wouldn't be missed. After that, she found her dance partner and asked if he was all right. He was apologetic, but she could tell he was ready to go home and pretend the day had never happened.

The bag of herbs still lay on the board, and the healer had stopped gathering items and was now wrapping a sprained ankle. Mikayla looked around, trying to find a way to draw the healer's attention to the bag, but the crowd had separated and there wasn't any cover to allow her to sneak back in. There wasn't anything she could do, so she sat down, took off her broken heels, and watched the crowd. If the healer left without picking up the bag she'd have to retrieve the stone.

The guards pulled the rest of the posts out of the dance platform and laid it flat on the ground, but the board was uneven and wobbled when people walked on it so no one had ventured back out. It was too early for the festival to be over, and the band still played, but the main event had been destroyed and people milled about aimlessly, wandering from booth to booth, looking for something else to entertain them. Mikayla gave it another hour before they dispersed and the festival ended early.

Two hours later, she still watched the healer. The festival was over; merchants were packing up their booths. A couple of broken bones were the worst of the injuries from the collapse of the dance floor but the healer hadn't left after everyone was treated. She'd gone back to a booth selling jewelry and chatted with the girl at the counter.

Mikayla had retreated to a spot in between two booths and pretended to help pack merchandise whenever the guards glanced her way. Now, the booths were gone and Mikayla sat on the steps by the exit feeling conspicuous.

Apparently one of the guards agreed because he approached her cautiously. "Festival's over."

Like she hadn't already figured that out. "I'm waiting for someone," she said trying to look like a girl whose beau was running late.

He looked her up and down, eyes lingering on her bare feet and the broken heels in her hand. "What's he look like?"

Mikayla described her dance partner from earlier.

"If your young man shows up, I'll let him know you were waiting. Curfew's in an hour, you want to be home before then."

"Curfew's extended for festivals."

"Not tonight. Go home."

Mikayla eyed the guard. Six feet, probably close to 250 pounds of muscle. He held his hand loose by his hip, ready to pull his sword at a moment's notice. Also one hundred percent human. Which meant she could take him without too much trouble. But there were civilians here, along with other guards and there was no way an altercation like that would go unnoticed. The Phoenix would comb the island looking for the person who'd beaten her guards and they'd be forced to stop recruiting for at least a month before the fervor died down.

As much as she wanted to wipe the arrogant look off of his face, she knew she couldn't. It would cause too many problems for the rebellion.

"Can I get my bag?" she gestured to the pink monstrosity sitting next to the broken dance floor. Maybe she could grab the stone when she picked up the bag.

"Get it tomorrow."

Again, she was tempted. A swipe of the feet and a twist of the arm and he'd be flat on his back with a dislocated shoulder. She ducked her head and breathed deep to control her temper and walked through the gate, trying to look meek. Maybe there was a place close by she could hide. Wait for the healer to leave and follow her. The stone was lost; she wasn't going to lose the healer too.

Most of the foliage leading up to the gate had been cleared, but the island was magical, and the massive output of magic the Phoenix had unleashed a couple months earlier had set the island on edge. No matter how often they cleared the roads, everything was over grown again within a couple of days. There were lots of nearby plants big enough to hide behind.

When the guard's attention turned back to the gate she stepped off the road to wait for the healer to come by. A particularly leafy bush served as a good hiding spot, but the longer she waited the more nervous she became, and in a fit of paranoia, she burrowed under the bush, making sure to obscure the bright pink on her clothes with dirt. Candace would be horrified.

Twigs caught her hair and scratched her skin as she forced her way under the bush, but when she was done she felt much calmer. Someone would practically have to be on top of her to see her.

An hour went by, then two and she began to wonder if she's chosen the wrong road. There was a slight chance the guards had let the healer out through a different exit, or maybe she actually lived in one of the shops in town. But no, that couldn't be, all shop owners had been forced out of their attached living quarters and were required to find lodging on the outskirts of town.

She was so lost in thought that the carriage almost passed without her seeing it. To be fair, it wasn't coming from the city, but going toward it, so she knew the healer couldn't be on it.

The distinctive red carriage came so close she could feel the wind it produced as it moved. Her kings had always preferred to travel by four wheeler, no matter how impractical it was to drive a gas powered vehicle on an island that didn't use gas. This carriage didn't run on gas but it was just as impractical. Painted red and trimmed with gold, the ever present Phoenix bird carved on either side; it would have been remarkable under any circumstances, but instead of being pulled along by horses, it was powered by magic.

Not even her kings could have afforded to waste magic like that. The Phoenix Queen had to be inside.

Why was she here? Had Brady been hurt again? Did she need to rush the healer back to treat him? Bile rose in her throat and she forced it back down. She couldn't help Brady, not right now.

The carriage rattled toward the gate at top speed and for a moment she thought it would collide, but the gate opened just enough to let the carriage through and closed behind it before Mikayla could think about following.

She considered forcing her way in some other way. Over the rooftops, or breaking through a wall. But that would be too risky. The tracking stone was still by the broken dance floor. If she was captured she wouldn't be found and all the information she'd gathered today would be lost. Her father wouldn't know the healer had been here and it could take years to find her again.

It was hard, staying still and quiet, knowing the Phoenix and the healer were on the other side of that gate. But she did it, and when the gates opened to let the carriage out again, she was disappointed, but not surprised, to see the healer in the carriage as it went by. There was no way to follow her now.

With no way in to get her stone and no way to find the healer, she crawled out from under the bush and made her way back to base.

* * *

 **Next week is a very busy week for me and I won't have much time for writing so you might be waiting a couple weeks for the next update. But I promise it is coming.  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

"You lost the stone," the seer said for the fourth time, like he still couldn't believe it.

Mikayla closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was done with apologetic. "I didn't lose the stone," she said firmly. "I put it in the healer's herb bag."

"But the healer doesn't have the bag," the seer retorted.

Oh good, he had been listening. "I don't know that for sure."

"What's the big deal?" King Boomer said from where he lounged eating a late breakfast. "It's a tracking stone. Track it down."

Mikayla looked at the seer expectantly, grateful for her king's unexpected support. She hadn't realized he was paying attention.

Apparently the seer hadn't known it either. His face went red, probably embarrassed that Boomer had offered a solution first. "Do you have any idea how much magic it takes to activate a stone like that?" The seer said, as if Boomer hadn't spoken.

"No. I don't," Mikayla snapped. "I'm not a magic user."

King Boz stood and Mikayla took her hand off her machete. Had she really been about to draw it in the presence of her kings? She must be more wired than she thought.

"What do you need to activate the stone?" Boz asked the seer.

The seer turned his glowing eyes to Boz. "A few minutes of quiet and a place to rest afterward."

"Do you have anything pressing to do right now?"

The seer frowned. "No."

He reminded Mikayla of a petulant child trying to get out of a distasteful chore.

"We could activate it now. Send someone after it while you're resting," Boz said carefully.

"I'm ready when you are." Mikayla smirked at the seer.

It took the seer less than a minute to do his thing and he didn't look the least bit tired after doing so. He thrust a disk in her hand, told her to follow the arrow and stalked out, claiming he had a headache.

The disk looked a lot like a compass, and worked in a similar manner. Instead of pointing north, it pointed toward the stone it was attuned to. Her dad had tried to talk her into sending someone else. She'd won the argument by pointing out it wouldn't look strange for her to go back and look for her purse.

When she reached the gates, she knew the stone had been moved. The arrow pointed in the wrong direction. She went in, hoping it was still in town and not floating down a river with the other debris often discarded after a festival. The broken dance floor had been moved, propped against a wall. Workers swarmed the area, scraping dirt and leveling the ground. Her purse was nowhere to be seen and neither was the herb bag. She made a show of looking for the purse, watching the disk as she wandered around in a wide circle. The stone wasn't in town.

Fortunately, the road followed the river for almost a mile and she was well past the gate when the arrow led her off the path. She followed the river until the arrow reversed directions. It had to be here somewhere. The river rushed in her ears. White waves streaked the water, spraying mist in the air. The stone couldn't be in the river; it was moving too fast. Maybe it was on the bank. She scanned the ground, trying to figure out which of the dozens of spherical stones was the one she was looking for.

It was no use; they were too similar. It could take hours to go through them all, and there was no guarantee the stone was on the bank, or even this side of the river. She scanned the area, looking for inspiration. It came in the form of an oak tree whose branches arched over the water. Perfect. Climbing had never been her favorite activity, but she did know how, and she reached her destination quickly. She sat on the branch above the water, and pulled out the disk. The arrow pointed to the other side of the bank. The current was too strong, even for her, to try and swim across, but she'd seen a narrow point a few miles up, she'd have to back track and cross there.

She stood awkwardly, ready to climb back down when the limb cracked under her weight and she fell into the rushing water below.

The water was cold. It stung her skin like thousands of tiny needles and when she reached the surface it buffeted her around like a rag doll. A boulder appeared in her path and she rolled to her back hoping to catch it with her feet so her legs could absorb the shock of the impact. She hit perfectly, and sailed out of the water before landing, face first in a pile of sand. That was dignified. Hopefully, no one saw it.

Mikayla pushed herself up, spit out sand, and looked around. The tree she'd fallen from was no longer visible. At least the disk was still in her pocket.

"Are you all right?"

Mikayla spun in the sand and was surprised to see the healer from the day before. "I'm fine, thank you."

The healer looked unconvinced. "You took a nasty spill. Maybe I should look you over." Mikayla must have looked as hesitant as she felt, because the woman added. "I'm a healer."

Mikayla nodded and allowed the healer to run her fingers through her hair. When the healer's skilled fingers touched the bump on the top of her head she winced.

The healer pulled her fingers away. "It's not too bad, considering how far you feel. But I'd still feel better if we could get you dried up before you try to go back home."

It would be too much to hope the healer would take her to her house.

"I live not far from here," the healer said, helping her to her feet. "We'll get you a change of clothes and a nice hot cup of tea. How's that sound?"

"Perfect." Mikayla couldn't believe her luck. Maybe they'd be able to track Brady down after all.

The healer's name was Haylee and she lived in a small cottage right across from the river. A little downstream was the oak tree with its broken branch. What were the odds that the stone had lodged on the bank next to the house she'd been looking for?

Inside the house was much nicer than outside. Expensive material covered the furniture and the wood floor was polished to a high sheen. She had the irrational urge to follow her kings' example and put on a pair of socks to slide across the floor.

"Sit here," Haylee pulled the cushion off one of her chairs. "I'll get you a towel."

Mikayla took the opportunity to look at the disk. The arrow pointed in the direction Haylee had gone. Had she found the bag of herbs before leaving?

"You're good." Haylee stood in the doorway, towel wrapped around her arm, head cocked to the side. "I almost didn't recognize you."

"What do you mean?"

"I never would have guessed the girl in the pink dress who knocked over her dance partner at the fair yesterday was Mason Makoola's daughter." Haylee handed her the towel. "I can see why the Makoola's are legendary."

Legendary, she liked the sound of that. "What gave me away?"

Haylee smiled. "You fell strange. Like someone who'd had training but forgot some of it. I didn't think anything of it at the time, but when I saw you fall in the river I realized you were aiming for me. The way you aimed for the rock free part of the river."

Mikayla scrubbed the towel over her hair. "You don't strike me as someone who's had a lot of combat training."

"You're right about that." Haylee picked up the tea set on the table. "But I'm a healer. Most injuries are caused by falling wrong. The how far and where means a lot less in comparison."

Haylee handed her a cup. It warmed her hands and she had a strange, almost unbearable urge to drink it, savor the warm liquid as it slid down her throat. Startled, she pulled her head away just as the cup touched her lips. What was that? She forced the cup down and eyed the healer warily. "Are you going to report me?"

Haylee's smile was gentle, her eyes knowing. "It's not drugged you know." She sipped at her own cup, as if to prove her point.

Mikayla took a sip and closed her eyes when the liquid hit her throat. That was some good tea. She took a bigger sip. "You didn't answer my question.

"I know."

The room spun and Mikayla dropped the cup.

Haylee watched the liquid spill onto the floor. "One lie a day is about all I can handle anymore."

Mikayla stood, aiming for the door, but she only made it about half way before she collapsed and everything went dark.


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry for the delay in updates. When I started posting I was a couple chapters ahead. Now you're waiting for me to write and edit each chapter as I go. Hopefully it doesn't slow me down too much.**

* * *

 **Chapter Seven**

"But Mason," Boomer pleaded, following the big man as he packed weapons and supplies, "we've been stuck here forever. We'll stay close, promise."

Mason checked the blade of his sword in the light before sheathing it. "It's too dangerous."

Boomer tried his trump card. "We are the kings."

Mason finished tying his travel pack and looked at the brothers. "Not right now you're not. Right now, you're the rallying point for the rebellion, the biggest threat to the Phoenix's power. If you're found, you won't be captured, you'll be killed." Mason slung the bag on his shoulder. "You're staying here."

Boomer watched Mason leave the room then shared a look with Boz.

"He's right, we'd be safer here," Boz said.

"What if Mikayla found the healer again and that's why she hasn't come back? What if they're heading right to Brady?"

Boz didn't look convinced so Boomer continued.

"Even if they aren't, I want to be out there, looking for our brother, instead of sitting here, safe and useless."

Boz nodded his agreement and Boomer smiled in relief. "Great! We'll give them an hour then sneak out after dinner."

* * *

Water dripped somewhere above her head. The steady plop, plop, plop filled her ears and she screwed up her face in annoyance. Cold assaulted her back and she rolled, trying to get out of the wind.

"Don't worry," a female voice said, "it'll get warmer when the door closes."

Mikayla glared up at Haylee, who looked in at her from the other side of the bars. "You drugged me."

Haylee nodded.

The cell she was in wasn't large. A small cot lay under her and the dripping water came from a porcelain sink in the corner. Thick bars adorned three of the four walls. They had the strange orange-gray color that came from being enchanted to withstand giant strength. So much for her Sasquatch heritage getting her out of this one. "What happens now?"

"You stay here until the Phoenix gets back." Haylee gestured to something in the distance and a door slammed shut. The air stopped moving.

"Then?"

Haylee shrugged. "We'll see."

As the healer left a small, round stone rolled across the floor, kicked into the cell by the healer's foot. The action looked accidental, but when Haylee looked back from the doorway she glanced at the stone before meeting Mikayla's eyes.

"For what it's worth," Haylee said, "I am sorry for lying to you."

Another clang followed the statement and Mikayla knew she was alone. She stood and kicked the wall in anger, a chunk of rock broke off and a few seconds later the wall smoothed out, looking as if it hadn't ever been damaged. Definitely enchanted. Her eye fell on the stone and she picked it up, planning on throwing it at the wall, but something stopped her. The weight and feel of the stone was familiar.

The disk that lead her to the healer was still in her pocket and she ran the stone around the edge of it. The arrow followed the stone. Why had Haylee given her the tracking stone?

* * *

Following Mason and his group was easier than it should have been. At least that's what Boz kept saying every time they came close to the group. Boomer was happy they were so focused on their goal and not paying attention to them following, but Boz was worried.

"Doesn't he realize he's the force behind the rebellion? A rallying point is worthless without Mason there to direct it." Boz moved as he talked, jumping through the trees like one of the monkeys he'd been raised by.

Boomer held onto a vine and watched his brother's unique version of pacing. "He's worried about Mikayla."

Boz was suddenly in front of him, hanging upside down from a higher branch. "We're worried about Brady, but we're at least trying to stay out of sight."

Mostly to avoid being scolded by their head of security like they were five years old, but Boomer didn't say that.

Boz pulled out a banana that Boz hadn't seen him pack. "I don't even need the animals to help me track them."

Boomer cocked his head, trying to see the group through the trees. "They're not watching at all?"

"No." Boz peeled the banana. "They're spread out so far a goose could track them. They're too reliant on those tracking stones." Boz took a bite of his banana and continued talking with his mouth full. "I mean, finding Mikayla's trail isn't that hard."

Boomer looked up at his brother. "You found her trail?"

Boz swallowed and pointed. "She followed the river for a while after she left the city, then she crossed it. I don't know why they haven't seen that."

Boomer glanced in the direction of Mason's group, then thought of the lecture they'd get if they were found. "Let's go see what she found."

* * *

Boz watched the river from a low branch. He'd lost Mikayla's trail the moment she'd joined the road, but he knew she'd crossed the river because he'd spent fifteen minutes listening a squirrel complain about a "dark haired human hybrid" breaking his favorite tree branch. The squirrel had chittered in amusement, when he'd described how she'd planted face-first into the bank on the other side of the river.

The tree in question was on the far side of the road. It looked like it had broken weeks ago instead of the day before like the squirrel insisted. Boz was certain there was a reason for that, but he didn't know what it was.

"Are we gonna cross?" Boomer crawled forward on the branch and looked at the people on the road below.

A steady stream of people had been coming and going all morning, mostly townspeople, but there were enough Phoenix guards to make him nervous about trying to cross the easy way. "We'll have to eventually." Boz looked at his brother. "Any ideas how to do that unnoticed?"

Boomer chewed on a fingernail while he contemplated the question. A few seconds later his finger left his mouth and pointed at the air. "I have an idea."

* * *

 **The next chapter is halfway finished so I don't think you'll have to wait as long for that one as you did this one. Thanks for reading. :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**I am so sorry for the long delay in updates. This is the main reason I don't like to start posting stories until they're finished. I always have long periods of time when I just can't write.**

 **Thank you very much for the reviews, they help motivate me more than you realize. :)**

 **This is a short chapter but, with the Holidays in full swing, I wasn't sure when I'd be able to finish writing it so I cut it off earlier than planned.**

 **Hopefully the next update will come faster than this one did.**

* * *

 **Chapter Eight**

"Are you sure about this?" Boz shook the makeshift hang glider, testing its strength.

Boomer understood his apprehension. It had been surprisingly easy to find branches, leaves and vines big enough to build their glider, but it was still held together with nothing more than vines and sap. He wasn't worried though, he had experience with this kind of thing.

Boomer grinned. "Trust me, it'll work."

Boz took a breath and together they jumped.

It took all his willpower to not scream in joy as they glided across the road, the river, and continued well past the opposite bank. Trees rushed to meet them and they crashed loudly into the foliage. Boomer laughed, and Boz laughed with him as they watched their glider fall apart around them.

"I can't believe that worked." Boz said.

Boomer looked through the leaves at the people walking on the other side of the river, oblivious to the kings who had just flown over their heads. He couldn't believe it either.

"There's a trail down there." Boz pointed to a narrow path that cut diagonally through the forest. "Looks like someone travels it a lot."

"Think Mikayla followed it?"

Boz shrugged. "Don't know."

Boomer looked around. "Maybe you can find some animals who saw her and ask them."

"Or, you could ask me."

The voice was familiar and Boomer looked down. The healer Mikayla had been looking for peered up at them through the branches.

The healer looked up at them, an odd intensity in her gaze. "Come down. I'll show you where I last saw her."

Boomer started to climb down and Boz grabbed the back of his shirt to stop him.

"Where is she?" Boz looked angry, his grip still tight on Boomers shirt.

The healer glanced away and Boomer's urge to climb down was gone.

"She's not here anymore." The healer sounded sad, like she was disappointed in herself for something.

"She's been captured." Boz made it a statement, his voice gone hard.

"I'm trying to help you." The healer sounded defensive.

"I don't believe you."

Boomer looked back and forth between them feeling like he'd missed part of the conversation.

The healer sighed. "Listen, there are half a dozen Phoenix guards stationed outside my house. The only reason they don't already know you're here is because I told them the noise you made was a branch falling in the river."

Boz cocked his head, but didn't respond.

She glanced up and met Boomer's eyes. "I don't want you captured. Your death would kill your brother."

A vision of Brady, pale and thin, sleeping on a bare cot in a cell filled Boomer's head.

"You know where Brady is." Boz's voice was quiet. Boomer could see the gears working in his brother's mind.

The healer glanced at something in the distance and nodded.

"Will you take us to him?" Boomer asked.

The healer nodded.

Boomer glanced at Boz. He knew his brother well enough to know he thought this was a bad idea, but he also knew they couldn't pass up a chance to find Brady. Boz lowered his eyes and Boomer knew he'd won their silent argument.

Apparently the healer did too because she spoke up. "There's a carriage next to the white cottage at the end of the lane. Find a place to hide. We leave in an hour."

* * *

It took them a while to find the carriage and even longer to pick a hiding spot. Clinging to the bottom of an ornate royal carriage covered in mud, Boz thought this was either the dumbest thing they'd ever done or the smartest. Time would tell him which, he was sure.

He heard the distinctive sound of footsteps approaching and the healer talking. They were too far away to pick out words but he could feel the distinctive call of the woman's magic. An uneasy feeling fluttered in his chest and he closed his eyes to stop himself from bolting.

He hadn't met someone with compulsion magic since Mindu sank and he'd never met someone who was as adept at using it as the healer seemed to be. It was pure luck he'd recognized it in time to stop Boomer from following her into what he was sure would have been the waiting arms of the Phoenix soldiers.

There was a good chance she was still going to do that.

As the voices got closer he clung to the axle with one hand, readied his knife in the other, and hoped they hadn't made the last mistake of their lives.

"Thank you," the healer said, "I'll carry that with me."

The carriage rocked as she stepped inside and several pairs of feet walked around the carriage, checking the luggage straps and looking for anything out of the ordinary.

Finally, after what seemed to be the most thorough check of the carriage possible, two taps hit the side and they began to move. It was disorienting, riding underneath a carriage pulled by magic rather than horses, but he finally found the rhythm and started to enjoy the ride. The change in speed was gradual and he didn't notice how fast they were going until he felt the wind against his back. The carriage was practically flying. He glanced at Boomer to see if he'd noticed, but his brother's eyes were closed and he seemed to be struggling to hang on. Boz swung an arm around his brother and grabbed the bar on the other side of Boomer's head to hold him steady.

By the time the movement of the carriage slowed his hands were cramping around the bar and he was regretting their decision. Green grass appeared under them and the carriage slowed stopped, it was tempting to drop into the soft looking grass, but from his vantage point he couldn't tell if they'd be seen.

"Get Lady Haylee's bags." The voice sounded demanding and efficient, reminding him of the old steward that used to serve the Royal family of Mindou

Footsteps swarmed the carriage and Boz debated dropping to the ground to sneak off in the commotion. One look at Boomer changed his mind. His brother still had his eyes closed and didn't seem aware of anything around him. It would take too long to get him moving and out of sight right now.

Haylee emerged after the servants finished unloading the carriage and had mostly disappeared.

"I'm glad you're sticking around this time," the voice belonged to the guy Boz had mentally dubbed Steward.

Haylee's feet turned and it looked like she'd just spun a small circle.

"Is she here?"

"She's been away for almost a week now. Everyone's on edge, not knowing when she'll be back."

Haylee made a noncommittal sound. "Shouldn't be long now." Her feet repeated the circle. "Shall we go inside?"

Boz imagined a bow or something similar had happened because they walked away in silence after that.

He waited a little longer. Listened carefully for the sound of anyone else nearby, then, when he was mostly sure they were alone, he released his hold on the axle bar and dropped to the ground. Boomer fell at the same time, and Boz grunted when his brother's full weight hit him.

"Let's never do that again." Boomer whispered hands curled in front of him like they were still holding onto the bar.

He rolled his brother off him and looked around carefully. A copse of trees in the distance beckoned him near, but they would have to cross a long expanse of flat grass to reach it so he turned his sight to a small building just inside the courtyard wall.

"Let's go." He grabbed Boomer's arm and pulled him across the courtyard as fast as he could.

The building looked like the servants' quarters and, armed with a pair of borrowed clothes, they made their way into the Phoenix's castle.


End file.
